Mine Part 1: Post War Dream or Childhood’s End
by Bright Leo Star
Summary: Harry wanted to scream it, to write it, to mark it so deep in his skin no one would ever dare to deny it. Mine. Explicit sexual content. Sort of an extended one shot. Part 1 of 2.
1. Chapter 1: Set the Controls

**Author**: Denebola Eltanin Black (previously known as Layla Star Cobain)

**Title:** Mine (absolutely, blindingly original, I know, please bow to the master of unexpected titles)

**Part 1: Post War Dream or Childhood's End**

**Summary:** Harry wanted to scream it, to write it, to mark it so deep in his skin no one would ever dare to deny it. _Mine_. This first part is like an extended one-shot.

**Rated**: MA for sexual content and for language.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her associates, I am merely having fun with them and I don't make any money out of it.

**A/N: **Thank you for all the wonderful reviews you gave me. There are some changes because I re-edited the whole story, I hope you'll like the new version. I tried to correct this story as much as I could but I can only do so much. If anyone is interested in being Beta for this story and it's sequel please let me know. I added a little interlude because I thought the reactions of Harry's friends were missing.

All the titles except "Mine" are from Pink Floyd Songs. So, Part 1: Post War Dream and Childhood's End are from **The Final Cut**. And Set the Controls For the Heart Of The Sun is from **A Saucerful Of Secrets.**

* * *

**Mine**

**By**

**Denebola Eltanin Black**

**Part 1: Post War Dream or Childhood's End**

**Chapter 1: Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun**

Harry wanted to scream it, to write it, to mark it so deep in his skin no one would ever dare to deny it. _Mine_. Those _lips._ They were intoxicating. They were impossible. They were his world. He kissed those lips again and again, trying to leave an undying mark on them. _Mine_. Kiss. _Mine_. Kiss. _Mine_. Kiss. _Mine_. _Mine_. A pain so deep he thought he would die from it ran through his body… _They're not mine_. With a whimper of pure agony he tore himself from them, and everything attached to them.

He got up from the absurdly large bed and started gathering his clothes, barely managing to keep his eyes from wandering to the angel still lying in the bed. He dressed quickly and methodically and only when he got to the bedroom's door and opened it, only then did he look back. There he was, sprawled in bed in the most sinful way possible – casual, and yet so calculated– with his arms gracefully over his head, his knees bent just enough to make the muscles of his legs stand out, his magnificent chest moving up and down as air blessed his lungs and his platinum blond hair, dishevelled from sex surrounding his head like a halo on the white sheets. Harry knew better than to look at his eyes, or, god forbid, his _lips_, he knew better and yet he found himself in the middle of a violent grey storm that would kill him any moment before he knew he had failed. He fought to recover his breath. He was not human. He was not real. No one should be able to kill with one look. And yet he could steal Harry's air and suffocate him that easily.

"Come back to bed Potter, I'm ready for another go"_ lips, lips, lips, lips._

"I– Draco– I can't– this is so wrong! I can't do this anymore, I have to go back to my life, I have to go back to my friends, to Ginny…" Deep breaths, deep breaths… _you can do this Harry, you have to do this, this is the right thing to do._

"Suit yourself, but I'm not wasting a hard-on so tell Pansy to come, she should be in the drawing room at this hour." _NO! MINE!_ Just like that and Harry's life lost its importance. Just like that and he fell to those lips again. 'Today is Ginny's birthday._ I don't care. Mine_. I promised Hermione I would end it. _I don't care. Mine._ I am wasting my life. _I don't care. Mine.'_

Harry kissed those lips again and he was in heaven, they were warm and demanding. They were soft and seductive. He devoured that mouth, battling with the hot and wet tongue inside it, exploring every corner of it, intent on leaving his permanent mark on it. Finally, gasping for breath he hovered on top of Draco Malfoy, his face inches from Harry's. _I love you_.

"Come, my eager one, take off your clothes" His heart was beating erratically at being called anything with "my" in it by this man and he obliged quickly and jerkily.

"Draco, Draco" he whispered as he showered the man's face with kisses. "Draco, Draco". He was laughing now and it was like bells of heaven, _sweet Merlin_, he loved this man. The sunlight was bathing the bed with streaks of gold that caught his hair and eyelashes and multiplied, dazzling Harry even more. He licked those lips and then followed the line of his jaw, nibbling lightly and liking and kissing, then his neck – his long, elegant, aristocratic neck – making sure to mark it thoroughly at the pulse point, making Draco arc his back artistically and moan. His moans were never shy or repressed, he was prone to let go moans that seemed to be dragged from the very pit of his soul and their quality of absolute sinfulness confirmed to Harry his suspicions that Draco was in fact the God of Sex incarnated.

Soft fingers were threading his hair and tugging in what seemed an almost possessive gesture sending tingles of pleasure down his spine.

"Draco, Draco" he repeated again and again between licks and kisses like a mantra, a song of love for to reach the ears of the ultimate God. He kissed the hard, pert nipples, relishing the noises coming from the lips he adored. He kissed each finger of the elegant hand – he had pianist hands – each knuckle, each line of the palm, hoping, even if he had never learned to read them properly, that they predicted a long, happy life. He kissed the white hipbones, nibbling and licking and completely ignoring the needy shaft that was trying to get his attentions.

"Potter…" _Ah… so sweet… _it didn't matter that it wasn't a moan but a command or that it was his last name and not his given name, it was still his name coming out of those perfect lips while their were in bed.

"Draco" he answered simply before taking the long cock into his mouth and sucking.

"Fuck… you're actually… uugggnnn… getting better at _Ah! _...that" Harry chuckled lightly, elated by the praise. He was always enthusiastic but this part required practice and now he was proud to notice that he could take almost all of Draco into his mouth and massage him with his throat muscles. He loved the feeling of that cock on his tongue, it was Draco and the scent, the taste, and everything was Draco. Bobbing his head up and down, suck, the tongue always in movement, turn the head to the left, suck, deep throat, look up and – Oh god, he is so beautiful – _moan_. Draco's moans were getting more and more desperate so Harry reluctantly let go, earning a hearty whimper from those lips.

He sat up and stared at the dishevelled blond beneath him. His skin seemed to glow in the sunlight like a diamond. When had his thoughts turned so girly… Harry couldn't seem to remember.

"You're so fucking beautiful, you know that." He murmured and Draco just looked at him through his golden eyelashes and seemed to gather his breath then he wriggled his hips, urging Harry to go on. Harry smiled at him broadly and after only a second of internal deliberation he picked up his wand and looked at Draco again, the blond seemed a little disappointed though Harry couldn't really tell why. But when he pointed the wand at himself Draco's stormy eyes widened almost comically. He murmured the lubrication and preparation spell quickly and positioned himself to align his entrance with Draco's cock.

"Potter… wha–?" Draco's protest was cut off by his own moan and he threw his head back in pleasure when Harry lowered himself on his shaft. It was painful, very painful in fact and if this were someone else Harry would've stopped right away. But seeing the blond so lost in pleasure and enjoying the view of the creamy neck exposed and vulnerable, Harry couldn't help but think that all the pain was worth it. He didn't stop until he felt Draco in him to the hilt and then he paused to recoup his energy and breath away the pain. Draco seemed to be fighting orgasm but after a few seconds he looked at Harry and stole his breath away with the intensity of the look. There was something in his eyes Harry had never seen before and he didn't dare to think it was what he was thinking… strange as that seemed. He didn't break eye contact even when Draco started to caress his chest, stopping at the nipples at pinching them lightly; making Harry's somewhat diminished erection to spring to life almost impossibly fast.

Harry started to move slowly at first, his eyes never leaving Draco's but when he hit what he knew instantly was his prostate he picked up the pace. After only a moment Draco started to meet his thrusts and set up an almost frantic rhythm. He didn't know how long they continued to move violently against each other, holding each other's eyes and fighting the temptation to throw their heads back as the heat and pleasure bordered the heavenly, it could've been minutes or hours. Suddenly he knew he wouldn't last much longer and he wanted to see Draco come before him so he clenched his insides hard several times while trying to keep the rhythm.

"_Merlin, Haaarrryyy!_" Draco cried out and he fisted, like in revenge, Harry's dick and matched his strokes to the mutual thrusts. The sound of his name on Draco's lips was the final straw. Harry tried, he tried really hard not to close his eyes, but the pleasure was too much and he had to, just before his vision exploded in white-hot pleasure. He knew he had cried Draco's name because he heard it as a distant eco but he couldn't remember the actual moment. Draco came a second after him and received him with arms wide open when he collapsed on top of him, holding him close and caressing his spine.

After a few minutes panting and riding out his glorious orgasm, Harry pulled up his head from Draco's chest to look at him. Draco was looking into his eyes with an unreadable expression but his hand went to entangle with his wild mane of hair, tugging and caressing until he pulled Harry into a slow kiss. When the kiss ended Harry noticed Draco was still very much inside him and started to get up but the blond's hands on his hips stopped him.

"Stay." breathed Draco not looking at him anymore but at the sunlit window. It was the first time Harry had ever seen him remotely embarrassed about something he did, at least since he had fallen in love and it shook him to the core. He had the distinct impression that this whole thing meant more than he had originally thought, but he didn't know if it was good or bad. He somehow knew that it was going to change something in their relationship, or whatever they had. Was Draco going to leave him in the morning? Was he going to tell him that he'd gone to far? Or maybe he could hope…

He lowered himself again and allowed Draco to carefully guide him as they turned so that Harry was on his back with Draco on top of him. Draco lifted his hips almost tenderly, never letting his softening cock out completely and placed a pillow under them witch made the contact easier. Then he lied down on Harry, hugged him tightly and stayed there.

Harry was having trouble controlling his breathing with the pure intensity of the moment. He stayed absolutely still for a long time waiting for his mind to process what had just happened. Draco had never been cold or unresponsive during sex but this was something else entirely. It was like Draco was thanking him with this tenderness. But for the life of him, Harry couldn't figure out why thank him when he, Draco, had done the same thing many times. And he had heard Blaise say that Draco had fucked him and left just afterwards, so it wasn't normal for Draco to be like this. Thinking he wouldn't figure it out today he started petting Draco's silky locks with trembling hands.

They stayed there for what seemed an eternity. Harry let himself get lost in the feeling of the other man in his arms, in the rhythmic beat of their hearts and the relaxing sound of their breathing. He was completely aware for the first time of the life within someone who wasn't him. He felt the very life force in Draco. Draco was alive, his heart, his breath, the very slight movements of his chest, the cock inside Harry, it was all so precious and yet so fragile. It was beautiful.

The sunlight changed slowly and a fiery orange light illuminated the room. This seemed to pull Draco into movement and he started kissing Harry's neck lightly. Harry startled, he had thought Draco was asleep, but when the kissing became more demanding, licking and sucking, he realised that wasn't important. He felt, very acutely, Draco getting hard again and gasped a little at the feeling. Draco took the chance to kiss him passionately but tenderly and still holding him close, he started to rock his hips slowly and groaned.

Draco made love to Harry. That was the only way to describe it. It was tender and loving and intense. The way he would cradle Harry's face before leaning in for a kiss, the way he would kiss Harry's eyelids, ears, chin, nose, very carefully like he would break, told Harry that it wasn't normal sex at all. Draco made sure to hit Harry's prostate every time but refused to go faster even at Harry's request. They came simultaneously and Draco buried his face is the crook of Harry's neck whispering very softly:

"Harry"

Harry fell asleep a few minutes afterwards, with Draco still inside him, with his heart so big in his chest it would explode any second and with Draco in his arms, alive and beautiful. _Mine._


	2. Chapter 2: Green Is the Colour

Thanks for all the reviews, enjoy! The title is from the Pink Floyd song Green Is the Colour, album More.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Green Is the Colour**

It was a game. He wasn't used to games. Games were for Slytherins. Slytherins knew the main enemy was boredom. Slytherins accepted that and played to escape it. He was a Gryffindor. Gryffindors ought to know nothing of games. For them it was all about following a greater truth, the morals, the right thing to do. But in the end it was all to get to the same goal: avoid boredom. Harry shouldn't be aware of the games. But there it was, again. A lock of hair slowly put behind his ear. Golden eyelashes kissing the soft cheek. Damn it, damn him. He was apparently unaware that it was Harry he was playing with. But Slytherins are always perfectly capable of pretending to be unaware. So he played the game alone for a long time.

When did The Seduction Game begin? Maybe the whole thing was foreplay. Before Sixth Year Harry always had his attention. Harry Potter was not an attention-seeking person. _But that's a lie now, isn't it. You claim you don't want it but what happens if – no, when- it's taken away? You go nuts and turn out gay_. Anyway, he was always trying to be better than him. Always trying to claim his attention. And Harry always disregarded him. Then in Sixth Year he had other things to think about and Harry started following him like a lovesick Hufflepuff (but in a very Gryffindor manner since he was unaware of the game and followed what he thought was the right thing to do). But he had been able to spend almost a year without seeing him or thinking about him except for that little trip to Malfoy Manor, right? And he never thought anything remotely sexual in those times or maybe he did but ignored it. Maybe he was a late bloomer or something. But the fact remained that now the git was surrounded with girls like some sort of Sultan with his harem. His father had chosen to run away and now he was the Head of the House of Malfoy, with all the pomp and gold. Thus, even if the Malfoy name was still associated with Voldemort in the outside world, the Slytherins grovelled at his feet for any crumbs of fame, sex, style, gold, beauty… anything (and he had plenty of all). And he almost never spared a glance for dear ol' Harry. And Harry, instead of following his Gryffindor side and stating that Malfoy was up to something, he became aware of The Game. Malfoy probably did it to get everyone's attention but it was Harry's he got and Harry tried to play along.

At fist he didn't notice. He had dead to burry, people to comfort, a whole castle to rebuild. But after some weeks of normal Hogwarts life, he came to notice that something other than Voldemort's threat was missing. Not only that. _He_ missed something, he felt somewhat incomplete and it was eating him alive. But he didn't know what it was. He got back together with Ginny, figuring out that maybe he needed some emotional connexion like the one Ron and Hermione had, but after three tedious dates he realised that wasn't it. But he couldn't gather the courage to end it. He started playing quidditch more often, but that wasn't it. When he started going mad about it hit him so fast he actually fell back from his chair in the middle of the Great Hall.

He was eating somewhat dispassionately when he raised his eyes to look around and suddenly he found himself staring into deep grey pools like stormy clouds just before the sun cracks them. It felt like a kick squarely on the chest and he actually fell back, hitting the back of his head so hard tears started prickling at the corner of his eyes. _Holy fuck._ He had missed Malfoy's eyes. Okay, correction, he had missed Malfoy's presence in his life. Ron and Hermione were all over him trying to figure out the reason why Harry had just decided to break his head on the stone floor and he could barely breath with the realisation.

Perhaps that's when The Game really began, or more accurately that was when Harry became aware that there was a game. He started noticing the most absurd things about Malfoy. How he would get up from any chair with a sort of dancer's swirl so that he was almost instantly in the direction he was going to take. How he would delicately pull his hair out of the neck of his shirt so it wouldn't tickle, exposing the side of his neck briefly. How his hair seemed to be made of the most thin and amazingly soft-looking platinum thread. How his skin picked up the light in a room, even at night and glowed in it. How his eyebrows lifted individually in humour when he was with a relatively small group of people or how they rose together in scorn when he looked at a relatively larger one. How Harry was neither, no friend nor foe, he was rarely even blessed with the stormy eyes anymore. How his hands were always careful, never clenching, always light, like a pianist. And how his lips were different from any lips anyone has ever had, light pink on white skin, thin and well shaped, the upper lip a little curved upwards giving him the sexiest smile on earth. Soon those lips filled his dreams, sleeping or not and he lost the ability to properly kiss any other lips.

Ginny was patient, thinking he was still mourning. He kissed her once a week to keep her mildly satisfied and always pushed her away when she got enthusiastic. Even noticing the games and getting in touch with his Slytherin side, he was still a Gryffindor at heart, so he did realised how wrong it was. He couldn't fall in love with Malfoy. The pureblood was in all evidence self-indulgent, arrogant, selfish, egocentric, snobbish, narcissistic, uncaring of the feelings of others, and probably even planning how to form the next anti-muggleborn group of dark wizards. Not only that, he, Harry, had a sort of commitment to Ginny, he had left her with the promise that he would be with her after the war if he survived.

He had really wished before that he could devote his life to her and not to the great responsibility of saving the world. He had wanted a normal life, a life without danger, without the constant worry of death. He thought he would love her if the danger were gone. He sort of understood now that she was his safety in the mist of all the danger, she was family and the good feelings in him that he needed to keep alive in face of all the hatred. But now that the war was over she was boring. That didn't make any sense, really, because she was funny and active and never prone to sit and do nothing. She was really a wonderful person and everything Harry could ever wish in a girlfriend. But the sense of danger, the excitement of it, that, she couldn't give. And he felt no passion or desire for her whatsoever.

But still, he couldn't go after Malfoy. There were certain things that were expected of him, not by the public but by his friends. He couldn't disappoint them like that. And Ginny, he couldn't hurt her by leaving her for a man like _Malfoy_. He wouldn't. His friends were like his family, were his family, they were the only ones he would do anything to impress and he wouldn't sacrifice their love or admiration for anything in the world. Really.

* * *

They were in the common room, only a week after Harry's Great Realisation, when the others seemed to notice Malfoy's new behaviour.

"Hey, have you noticed Malfoy's really different lately?" That was Lavender sitting in one of the couches surrounding the fireplace. All the eight years were there because it was Friday night, or perhaps Saturday morning and they were the only ones with the right to stay up that late and have drinks. Harry's stomach jumped a little at the mention of Malfoy but he schooled his slightly drunk expression so no one could notice.

"Different how?" He asked cautiously while trying to be casual.

"Well, for one thing, he isn't chasing you anymore like before. Haven't you noticed he hasn't insulted you since we came back to Hogwarts?" She was speaking very carefully which ignited Harry's curiosity but before he could answer Ron interrupted.

"I'm glad I don't have to see the little ferret so often but I just bet he is planning his next evil murder."

"Ron, it was you who told me I was being paranoid with Malfoy in Sixth Year. And then he was acting suspicious and Voldemort was still at large." Replied Harry, surprising himself with the words; because he too had thought that Malfoy was probably plotting something. "Now he just seems to be having a good time."

"Yeah, but he _was_ planning something evil. He nearly killed me too! And Bill! That was all his fault!" Ron was in a sort of drunken fury now and had everyone's attention. Harry thought it might be better to try and calm him but his words had a ring of wrongness in them that he couldn't ignore.

"Ron, he was doing all he could to save his family, he had Voldemort breathing down his neck! And he didn't kill Dumbledore, he couldn't. You didn't see him Ron, he was scarred, he was so scarred, for his life and the lives of those he loved and still he didn't kill him. He lowered his wand." He couldn't completely drain his words from the passion that fed them and everyone was looking at him oddly. Strangely enough it was Lavender who broke the silence.

"Yes, and now that the war is over he has stopped being a bastard because he has no one to impress anymore and his father isn't forcing him to do anything anymore. Maybe he isn't such a bad guy as we all th–"

"Why are defending that Death Eater?!" shouted Ron, his face was almost purple now. Lavender, probably sensing danger, backed off at once.

"No reason at all, I was just voicing my random thoughts." She got up from her couch and dragged Parvati out of the room with a too-innocent look on her face. Harry eyed her suspiciously, but he couldn't figure out what she was hiding. When he turned back to look at Ron he found him pointing directly at Harry's face with his finger trembling with anger.

"And you? What's your excuse?" He spat.

"Really Ron, it's not that important. I'm just say–"

"NOT THAT IMPORTANT?! HE NEARLY KILLED ME!" The shout seemed to stir Hermione out of her thoughts and she stood up to take Ron by the arm and say:

"That's enough Ron, you're drunk and it's late. If you fight Harry you'll regret it tomorrow." Ron seemed to calm down a little and with no more than a dramatic "Fine!" he stomped to the Eight Year's bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Harry made himself the promise that he wouldn't try and talk to Malfoy unless it was necessary. That promise was not difficult to keep because even if he felt a strong pull towards the blond, the nerves would usually stop him from doing anything really stupid. He tried very hard not to stare at Malfoy for more than a few seconds and always avoided being noticed. That was easier said than done but he managed to dodge all the questioning glances from Hermione.

For two months he managed. He was a relatively good boyfriend to Ginny, a good friend to Hermione and Ron, even if they would sometimes get into fights about the punishment of Death Eaters and Slytherins. He would always perk up when someone mentioned Malfoy and couldn't avoid following the man with his gaze, but he managed. Everything seemed to be normal, even if Harry was hollow; there was no need for anyone to know that or to change because of it. So Gryffindor house was as ignorant and happy as ever. Lavender and Parvati seemed to have a huge great secret they couldn't tell, but insisted on telling everyone they had it. Ron seemed to be getting better at Quidditch and teased Ginny constantly about it, obviously trying to prove his superiority and failing to notice that no matter how much he improved she was always a step ahead. Hermione had retreated to a world of books and only seemed available when she was needed urgently. Neville seemed to have grown to become a full Gryffindor man and he constantly astonished everyone with his wisdom. All in all, Harry's little obsession went right under the table.

It wasn't until January that everything went to hell.

Harry entered the common room tired but happy. He had been flying for hours in the cold wind and then taken a relaxing hot shower. It had been a really bad week: two fights with Ginny, a bad grade in his Transfiguration essay (and he had worked very hard on it too) and he still couldn't get Malfoy out of his head. But the flight had done him good, refreshing his thoughts. He has heading to his dorm when he caught sight of Parvati. There was nothing abnormal with her, not that he noticed her very often, her clothes and hair seemed normal enough. But her eyes, her eyes were not normal at all. Neither was her face. She was pale and seemed frozen in place but it was a fragile stillness. Harry recognised that sort of stillness, it was the sort of pause of a snake before an attack and the pure hatred in her eyes has positively scary.

He drew out his wand instinctively and was about to set a shield around her but she was too quick and she launched herself to the person in front of her, Lavender. Harry was so startled by that that his arm fell limp to his side. Why on earth would Parvati attack Lavender? They had been inseparable for eight years, it didn't make any sense. And she was attacking with blind hatred and a sort of war cry that reverberated around the common room. She was hitting Lavender with all her might, pulling her hair, biting her shoulder and cheek, slamming her head on the floor with the violence that had everyone gaping and doing nothing. And Lavender was trying to protect herself with her hands and crying for help.

That pushed Harry into action and he ran to get Parvati off Lavender. She fought and kicked against his hold on her waist but he was stronger than her and managed to keep her away from anyone she could hurt.

"Let me go! Let me go! I'm going to kill her!" She shouted while her long fingernails clawed his arms. Harry gritted his teeth in pain.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Parvati." Harry said panting from the effort. The words seemed to have an effect on her because she sagged against him and began sobbing.

"Why? Why did you do it Lavender? I thought you were my friend! You knew! You knew how much I love him!" She started fighting again but with less force. "You bitch! You whore! How could you?"

Everyone was staring at the scene with wide eyes and no one seemed sure how to approach this kind of problem until Hermione summoned a vial that came from her room and showed it to Parvati.

"It's a Calming Draught." She said softly, soothingly. "You can deal with this when you are more controlled."

Parvati collapsed and she would have fallen if not for Harry's arm around her. Harry guided her carefully to the floor and helped her drown the potion. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a suffocating hug with sobs still racking her body. But the potion took hold in less than a minute and her sobs diminished. Harry looked up at Hermione imploringly because he was very uncomfortable with the whole situation. She was talking to Lavender who seemed scared, hurt and teary but she caught Harry's eye and pitied him. She gently removed Parvati out of his arms and guided her towards the girl's staircase.

"Lavender should go to the hospital wing, can someone take her?" Said Hermione over her shoulder with a commanding voice that brought everyone out of his or her trance. Seamus was the one who reacted first and murmuring something to Lavender, guided her out of the common room.

"What do you reckon that was all about?" asked Ron suddenly startling Harry who was still shocked by the whole thing with his nearness.

"I don't really know." He said blandly.

"I mean, obviously Lavender either fucked or kissed or maybe stole Parvati's boyfriend. But I didn't know she had one and she never hides them, does she?"

No, she didn't. Parvati had practically shoved in everyone's face when she was dating Dean, kissing him in public and always holding his hand, even if it was inconvenient to take notes in class or even eat. Dean had broken off with her complaining that he had actually lost several pounds because of that. And Parvati hadn't been with anyone lately. In fact, now that Harry thought about it, she had been exceptionally low profile the last weeks. She hadn't participated in any conversation very actively; she didn't seem to be gossiping too much. But Harry didn't know what that meant and really, Parvati's life wasn't one of his priorities.

He sat on his favourite chair and prepared to battle against his Potions essay, because no matter how much he babbled on the characteristics and effects of unicorn horn, he couldn't fill the whole parchment. Just as he has considering recopying it in another sheet making sure that his hand-writing was as large as humanly possible, Hermione came back with a face full of concern. She sat beside him.

"She is asleep now. I never thought she would do something like that. It always seemed that no matter how many boyfriends she had, Lavender was her friend and she cared for that friendship more than anything else." She looked sad, sympathetic. "And all for that _bastard_…"

"What bastard? Who…" Harry felt a small flash of anger, he didn't care much for Parvati before but he had seen the pure despair in her face and the thought that someone had actually done that on purpose to someone else shook his hero instincts.

"It seems that all the while Lavender was helping Parvati with him, trying to ease the idea into everyone's head. Parvati cares a lot for public opinion of her boyfriends, that's why Lavender was always defending him. "

"Hermione… who?"

"Malfoy." The word hit him like a bludger. He felt all the emotions roaring in him, contradictory and sometimes senseless. Malfoy? Malfoy had hurt Parvati. Harry disapproved but at the same time he felt a sort of excitement, he was going to face Malfoy with the excuse of defending his housemates. Then he remembered the words Parvati had screamed _'you knew how much I love him! You bitch! You whore!' _And understanding crept to his mind bringing with it a roar of pure anger and rage. He could somehow associate it with seeing Ginny with Dean but the intensity was something else entirely. He was drowning in it, his vision clouded with red sparks. _MINE!_ The monster roared in his head. The thought of that bitches' hands on his pale skin, running through his hair, kissing _those lips_… _MINE! MINE! MINE!_

Murmuring something like "yeah, he's a bastard" and then "I need some air" he went out of the common room as calmly as possible under the circumstances. The fire died when a strong wind attacked it and he quickened his steps but no one seemed to associate that to Harry. He got to the seventh floor and the Room of Requirement provided him with a simple room with a big couch where he collapsed and screamed his lungs out. He had known that Malfoy was having a lot of sex around. He had but the implications of it hadn't caught up with him until now. There were a lot of girls who got to kiss those lips, to touch that milky skin and all of them had more than Harry could ever dream for. And he wanted nothing more than to claim Malfoy as his own and kill anyone who dared to touch him. He was breathing heavily and his anger was palpable in the air around him but eventually he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3: What Shall We Do Now?

The title is from **The Wall**. enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 3: What Shall We Do Now?**

Potter was entertaining.

He remembered his mother making him read muggle and wizard philosophers behind his father's back and making him learn by heart the most important parts. _Condition de l'homme. Inconstance, ennui, inquietude_ (1)_._ _All men's miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone. _Ah, Pascal, so many truths and lies in his words. When he was a child be used to play to give contradictory or impossible orders to the house elves just to see what they would do. When that game grew old he would annoy his parents just to see how much they would endure. From simple repetitive questions to escaping from home or creating a fire in his room and hiding to make them think he was dead, he tried them all. He never played with the same toy for very long because they would stop surprising him. One night, after having driven his mother near a nervous collapse only with words, something he had been trying to do for years, she took his shoulders and shook him savagely while screaming in his face: "Why do you do this things Draco? Why do you torment us so?" over and over again. Finally he lost his cool and bellowed back: "BECAUSE I'M BORED!"

The next day he woke up to see a neat little pile of books on his bedside table with a note from his mother instructing that he had to read them all several times and then write what he had learned. That's how he discovered Pascal. The muggle was clearly deranged with his religious bullshit, as many muggles were, but he also understood the human mind so thoroughly, without illusions that his words managed to stay with Draco for all his life. But Draco had come to a different conclusion. Yes, men were inconstant, contradictory, vane, weak and stupid but that was no reason to devote oneself to a non-existent god and try to fight the urges that consume us. No, Draco had read Pascal and decided that he would bathe in his human nature, that he would accept everything he was and seek _divertissement_, entertainment even if it was only to keep himself from thinking about his horrible mortality. He would be selfish and rejoice in it.

And Potter. Potter was so entertaining. Draco enjoyed how everything mattered to the man, everything was so important, a word, a look, a feeling, other people, he was the epitome of human contradiction, completely taken with morality debates, always denying his urges, always thinking about the whole picture, but his whole picture was so distorted… He didn't understand it didn't matter what others thought, he didn't understand the glory, the pleasure of absolute selfishness. And Draco could push him and play with him and surprise him and he would fight with himself and feel miserable and it was so _fun._ Draco knew that one day he would push too hard and then Potter would fall and shatter, torn out by his blind morality and it would be so incredibly fun to watch. He just had to lie down and watch. Just as he could lie down and enjoy when Potter finally gave up into desire and started adoring his body.

No one was so reverent about him, Potter treated Draco like a god, and Draco could bask in the self-indulgent pleasure of adoration. Because if there was something Draco was good at it was definitely self-indulgence.

It had begun only months after the Dark Lord's pitiful end when those who wanted to re-do the NEWT after the war came back for another year at Hogwarts. They were all free, happy, young and Draco had never fucked so many people in such a short time. Most importantly, _he_ was free, his father had disappeared completely after the war, leaving him as Head of the family and he had managed to reclaim the role of Prince of Slytherin fairly easily. They just loved him and he could do whatever he wanted. But they were all the same, they all followed the same rules and they were somewhat boring after a while. And then there was Potter. He had harassed Potter for 6 years at Hogwarts, because the git would always hurt his pride one way or another and because he somewhat enjoyed to poke him and anger him just to watch the astonishing green eyes flash with anger. But after the war, harassing Potter seemed pointless, he was free, he had suffered in the war and Potter had also suffered in the war, probably more than him, Potter deserved to be free as well, free from all the hostility. And really, you can only use the same insults so many times… Draco tended to feel unoriginal when he insulted Potter, he hated being unoriginal. So instead of wounding his pride even more with petty fights he tried to ignore Potter completely and invest himself in more material pleasures than a pair of pretty green eyes.

* * *

The first time Draco noticed Potter was different was during a Potions class in January. It was Monday after a very lively weekend during witch Draco had broken all known records of how many people it was possible to shag in two days and all the girls were gossiping about it, sharing their amazing experiences, because Draco always made sure it was amazing. As he stirred the potion with a self-satisfied smirk he felt someone watching him. It was a ridiculous feeling, since all the girls always were and it never bothered him, it never made him cautious. But now he felt danger, as he hadn't felt since the end of the war and he hated it but it also send a jolt of adrenaline through his body and filled him with reckless excitement. _Here we are now, entertain us._

He looked around cautiously until his eyes met with pure emerald-green anger. His breath caught in fear and anticipation as he watched Potter's incredibly intense eyes bore into his. There was that feeling of danger that Draco now could identify as Potter's raw magic filling the room. It was powerful, angry, dangerous and oh so very arousing.

"Draco dear, is it time to add the unicorn hair?" he distantly identified the voice as Pansy's and felt her hand on his forearm. The green eyes shot to the hand and Potter's face became murderous. Intrigued, surprised and eager to indulge his ego he bent down, never taking his eyes of Potter, to whisper to Pansy's ear in a low purr:

"We only have to wait a little longer, my sweet." He paused to enjoy, as the magic grew heavier, he was already hard. "There is an empty class room at the end of the corridor, be there after class."

"Okay" she breathed and he could practically smell that she was already wet. Pansy always responded easily, but she also understood perfectly that she was nothing more than a shag. She had told him once that he was the sexiest man she had ever seen but it would feel indecent to have a relationship with him. He could take that as an offence, obviously, since he walked in the same circles as her and he had a reputation to protect and a wife to find eventually in those circles, but he really didn't care if they all saw him as "sex on legs" (Pansy's words) and not some boring subdued little pure-blood.

"Harry, mate, are you alright? You're shaking!" came Weasley's annoying voice and Draco smirked, _Oh, this is going to be fun!_

He made sure when he left the class that Potter's eyes were on him as he went to the deserted classroom and even risked to look at Potter and sneer a little when Pansy entered a few seconds before him. He fucked her against the door with Potter's magic drumming in his ears. He made sure that the door rattled with his thrust even if Pansy had insisted on a silencing charm and came imagining Potter on the other side of the door, his eyes flashing with anger and jealousy. He hadn't felt so flattered in a very long time.

That night at dinner he stared at Potter. Yes, he was handsome enough. He had grown out of his scrawny boy look in Fifth Year. The hair was hopeless and yet the wildness of it attracted Draco, he could easily see his hands getting lost in all that hair, like plunging a hand in a bag of lentils, it had a sort of simple and yet powerful pleasure in it and most of all it was irresistible. He was fit, very fit with quidditch and battle and had the sort of natural tan that could be envied. The eyes were definitely the most prominent attractive of Potter's physique, they were vibrant and full of passionate fire that seemed all consuming. Yes, he could picture himself in bed with Potter.

He had fucked men before, he preferred women. The problem was that the men he had fucked had no idea how to fuck a man. He knew that probably not all gay men were like that but to his experience all the guys his age were. They were either girly idiots who never got through puberty and assumed that being childish was equal to being gay and then blushed and cried and you had guide them all the way. Or they were homophobic gays who refused to bottom and yet had no idea how to top. Draco had to coax them to bottom and that was tedious. He had tried once to bottom, with Blaise, the first time they fucked. Blaise had obviously assumed that being with a guy was avoiding all the problems that came with women and basically mistook Draco for a walking hole to fuck. Draco had stood the first minute of the painful and careless preparation before he kicked Blaise off and fucked him properly. So, to the day his arsehole was "virgin" and he preferred women.

But he would give Potter a chance if Potter sought him the right way. He wasn't going to talk or encourage him in any way. Potter was going to have to come for him. No pun intended, or perhaps yes. He could bottom for Potter, all that power, all the magic would make him a very attractive top, _if_ he knew how.

As it was he didn't have to wait long to see Potter's first move. He had spotted a cute girl he was quite sure he hadn't noticed before and was about to go over and talk to her when someone grabbed his arm and dragged him to an empty room that he had never seen before even if its door was just outside the Great Hall. It had huge enchanted windows and a sort of podium that made him think this was some sort of unused conference room. He was thrown harshly against the wall and he found himself staring at the angry face of Harry Potter.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Spat Potter. Draco raised his eyebrows with scorn even if Potter's magic was already teasing his skin with fire.

"What is wrong with me? You're the one you just kidnapped me, I believe that question should be asked the other way around."

"Did you fuck Lavender?" Draco tilted his head to the side. Was it possible that all the display on Potions was on behalf of that dim-witted Gryffindor? No… he had seen and _felt_ Potter get angry when he had been close to Pansy. Potter was probably just looking for an excuse to push Draco against a wall. If he denied it, he would loose the chance of getting Potter, that was out of the question. If he asked something like 'what is it to you' Potter would probably regain his senses and go.

"I did" he smirked wickedly as Potter's eyes were darkened with anger. "What are you going to do about it, Potter?"

It was a challenge, he had intended it that way. Suddenly a hot, forceful mouth captured his lips. He moaned a little and opened his own mouth to allow access. That's when he discovered he preferred men to women after all. It was hard and passionate and demanding and competitive and overall wonderful. Where had Potter learned to kiss that way? He allowed himself to enjoy the kiss completely for a few minutes when he decided that Potter wasn't going to claim the monopoly of kissing ability and he fought to control the kiss, exploring the warm, tasty mouth and teasing all sensitive points. He buried his hand in that wild hair and as predicted it was perfect for that action. He pulled the man closer with an arm around his waist and felt Potter moan exquisitely in his mouth.

Potter's hands were caressing his neck deliciously when he heard someone trying to open the door. Potter broke the kiss only to whisper in his ear:

"Meet me in the Room of Requirement tonight at eight." It wasn't a demand, it was a plea and Draco, having no reason to refuse, hummed a little in approval. Potter kissed him quickly once more and then let go with a small whine that made Draco want to preen, if he had Potter whining after only two kisses, he really was good.

Potter talked to someone just outside the door, apparently convincing whomever it was to go to the library instead of entering the room. Draco waited looking out the big windows and basking in the dim winter sunlight until he considered it was safe to come out.

He considered briefly not going to the Room of Requirement just to anger Potter but then he thought that he wasn't settling with simple anger. He wanted Potter very much. He thought he had wanted him for a very long time but had not acknowledged it. He wanted him to loose all control for him, he wanted him to let go of all that passion and intensity and use it just to please Draco. He was painfully hard when he got there. The door wasn't there so he figured Potter hadn't arrived yet and started pacing, trying to picture in his mind a perfect room. And well, Potter had made the first move, it was his turn. He smiled wickedly. _He won't know what hit him._ The thought came to him that normally he wouldn't do anything like this for any of his lovers, but he dismissed it, he just wanted to see the look on Potter's face when he saw it.

(1) The Human condition: Inconstancy, Boredom, Anxiety. (From Pascal's _Pensées_)


	4. Chapter 4: Young Lust

The title is again from **The Wall**. Thanks for all the reviews and I hope you'll like this chapter.

**Chapter 4: Young Lust**

Harry was ready to go half-an-hour before the meeting with Draco. He had washed, shaved and after a long deliberation he dressed in a dark jean Hermione had told him made him look delectable and a button down emerald green shirt. He knew he was going crazy; he was dressing for _Malfoy_ for Christ's sake. His conscience tried to nag him several times: What was he doing? What about Ginny? This is a mistake. But then he remembered that kiss in the abandoned conference room. Malfoy's lips were made to be worshiped. They were intoxicating and he was afraid he was already an addict. He had been in a mad fury all day with the whole school talking about Malfoy's weekend. And finally he could take it no longer. It wasn't fair that half the girls in the school had tasted those lips and he hadn't. He was going mad, he knew it, he didn't care.

He was climbing out of the portrait hole when Ginny caught up with him.

"Where are you going?" he would have been mad if the tone of her voice was angry or reproachful but she said that with a calm, gentle and sweet voice and he couldn't be mad at her.

"I'm going to take a walk around the school for a while, I need some air you know." He knew he was a bad liar but it seemed that his determination to get to the Room of Requirement made his voice sound sincere. He almost sighed in relief.

"Want me to come with you?" Still it was that calm voice. And what was worst was that it wasn't even faked. Ginny was so patient, so kind and yet all he could think of was the feel of Malfoy's lips on his.

"That's ok, I kind of need to be alone but I'll talk to you tomorrow." He tried to be as gentle as possible but it was getting late. She looked at him for a long moment and then said:

"All right Harry, we'll talk tomorrow, maybe you could help me with my Defence homework if you're not too busy with your own work." She kissed his cheek tenderly. "By the way, that shirt makes you look very handsome." She smiled brightly and then turned to go to the common room. Harry made sure he used a normal speed to climb out of the portrait hole but the second the portrait swung shut he began to walk very quickly almost running but trying not to get too much attention. He finally got to the seventh floor only five minutes late. The door was already there so Malfoy was surely inside which he was sort of thankful for because he hadn't thought too much on how to decorate the room. A big bed in a middle of a simple room could be a little insulting, especially for someone as refined as the Slytherin Prince. He opened the door carefully and looked inside. His breath caught.

He was in a forest but it wasn't like any forest he'd ever seen before. The trees were huge and their leaves made a delicate ceiling through which fine streaks of moonlight poured like silver on the grass. The tree trunks were a soft shade of grey that was almost white but it didn't look unnatural it this forest, it was magical; they even seemed to glow a little. The grass was dark and thick and looked inviting. Harry wanted to lie on it. There was even a little stream and the water reflected and sparkled with all sorts of lights and Harry was sure that some of them came from below the surface. Even if it was night it was possible to see very clearly, everything seemed to exude a light of its own. He was transfixed for a long moment before he realized something was missing. Where was Malfoy?

He looked around and saw something he hadn't noticed before. No, it hadn't been there before. It was a bed, a bed made of the same magical wood as the trees. It wasn't out of place, in fact it looked like a tree had grown to look like a four-poster bed. The lower part was exactly like a tree trunk with deep roots and all, then it widened and nested the mattress and sheets and the four posters were like branches that went as high as the other trees and added their leaves to the natural ceiling.

Harry's heart was pounding with excitement, if there was a bed, surely Malfoy would be there. Then he realized that the room wouldn't be here if someone wasn't in it.

"Malfoy?" he said looking around but no one answered. "Malfoy, I know you're here, this place is amazing!" He heard a rustle behind him and he turned. There was Malfoy with a small smile on his face. His hair and skin were glowing in the moonlight. His skin! There was so much of it. He was naked! Harry thought his heart was going to give out because it was beating so fast. His ears buzzed and his mouth was dry as he raked his eyes all over that magnificent body stopping for a long time on Draco's erect cock.

"My god…" Harry whispered in his daze. "You're beautiful." He didn't know if Draco could hear him because they were still a few feet away from each other. Draco tilted his head to the side and looked in what seemed innocent curiosity at Harry. Then, apparently satisfied, he lost all innocence so quickly Harry was startled. He grinned and the grin had a dangerous edge to it. He stalked closer to Harry, his manners exuding a predatory intent and an inherent sensuality that seemed almost feline. Harry's breath quickened even more. He was excited. He was stimulated. He was full of adrenaline. He was being challenged. He rose up to the challenge.

He felt his magic surrounding him and expanding in the forest, which was strange since it had never happened before unless he was extremely angered or scarred. He saw Draco's fine almost invisible hairs in his arms stand up and Draco shivered slightly. Harry pounced. He attacked Draco's mouth with his own with such ferocity they fell backwards on the bed that was conveniently right behind Draco. He didn't care. He kissed those lips with passion. Draco's tongue came to invite him in and he took that invitation quickly, owning, even if it was only for a moment, a part of this man. He then proceeded to devour Draco. Sucking and biting he went down the long neck to the shoulders, to the chest marking him thoroughly.

Draco was panting hard, arching his back and moaning. Harry had never heard such perfect moan. He sucked on the pink nipples biting slightly and Draco's hands went to his hair, racking the fingers through it while keeping Harry on place. Harry smiled and continued his task. Draco allowed him enough movement to go to the other nipple and give it the same treatment. As he was beginning to mark Draco's abs he was pulled by the hair and brought back to those lips.

"I'm going to look like a bee hive attacked me." He said with a combination of whining and humour that enchanted Harry, at least until he said: "But I'll be able to hide it with a scarf or something." Harry growled and turning Draco's head to the side he started sucking hard in the point between the jaw, the neck and the ear. He left a big, almost purple mark. Draco glared at him, Harry smiled, Draco shuddered and took his mouth roughly. He began to rub his aching sex against Harry's still clothed thigh, moaning into the kiss.

Draco grabbed his hair again and turned his head slightly to press his lips to Harry's ear. "Take those damned clothes off _now_" He hissed as if he would kill if someone stood in his way. It was Harry's turn to shudder and with Draco's help he managed to take off his shirt. As soon as the shirt fell to the floor Draco sat up quickly as much as he could and bit down hard on Harry's shoulder. Harry screamed in pain and pleasure.

"Draco!" he cried out very loudly. Draco was apparently finished eating Harry's shoulder and he looked up into Harry's face with a slight sneer on his face. Harry erased the sneer by rubbing his thigh to his cock. Draco moaned but didn't looked away from his face as he said in a husky voice:

"Fuck me Potter, fuck me now."

Harry was about to take out his wand – he had learned all the necessary spell a few weeks ago from a book he had ordered by Hedwig, just for some innocent reading of course – but Draco snatched his hand and brought it to his mouth liking the palm seductively and then pressing a vial into it. Harry looked at it and he recognized it as lube. Yes, it would be more pleasant to prepare Draco manually. He smiled and kissed that amazing mouth deeply. There were hands on his hair again, it seemed Draco had something for his hair, not that he minded. As difficult as it was to concentrate with those intoxicating lips on his own he managed to open the vial and slick his fingers with lube.

He reached down and dipped his middle finger between Draco's arse cheeks feeling the tiny little hole he was supposed to fuck. A strange thought occurred to him, he really didn't want to hurt Draco; he wanted this to be pleasurable for them both. So he reluctantly left his mouth and repeated his earlier path down the beautiful body, liking, biting and kissing and all the while massaging that lovely little hole, feeling it twitch and relax. He stopped for a moment at the bellybutton and dipped his tongue in it repeatedly; imitating what he was planning to do in just a moment. A thin layer of sweat covered Draco's skin and he was moaning, panting a begging while dipping his hands in Harry's hair and scratching desperately the scalp sending waves and waves of pleasure through Harry's body.

Harry stopped for a moment, his head hovering just an inch from the tip of Draco's proud cock and looked up to see that Draco was looking at him through heavy lidded eyes, breathing hard, that was very probably the moment he fell in love with Draco. Harry had for a second full access to the depths of Draco's soul, he could see all the conflicting emotions, all the excuses by witch Draco lived, all the pride, the selfishness but also something softer and more vulnerable, something like innocence but it wasn't exactly it. As Harry dived to take Draco's cock in his mouth he was assaulted by the strangest feeling of protectiveness towards the blond and he couldn't really understand it and as quickly as the epiphany had come it left him, leaving only the love behind it, but taking all understanding.

He did his best to pleasure Draco with his mouth, relaxing his throat as much as he could but he couldn't take him very far though apparently Draco wasn't too bothered by that fact, or at least not that Harry could tell from his wanton moans. He plunged his finger into Draco's hot and silky insides and Draco started impaling himself.

When three fingers were already being pulled in and out of Draco's arse – like some sort of battle of wills, Draco pulled them in, Harry pulled them out – Draco pulled Harry one more time so he was within his mouth reach. Harry had to take his fingers out completely to obey Draco's whim. The blond whined pitifully as he enveloped Harry's neck with his arms tightly and his waist with his legs, so tightly that Harry fell forward and his whole body weight was on Draco.

"Now, please do it now…" pleaded Draco while biting Harry's ear lobe. He released Harry from his death-grip enough so he could reach between them and with one firm hand he guided Harry's cock to his hole. His other arm was still holding Harry's neck, his fingernails dove deep in his shoulder and he was biting harshly at his pulse point. Harry had never been so aware of so many different parts of his body at the same time. The tight heat that enveloped him was overwhelming but so was Draco's strength and passion and the pain in his shoulder and neck only made the pleasure heightened.

"Ugnnn… you're so tight… you feel so good!" he gasped in Draco's ear. Draco finally released his abused neck and started nibbling his jaw while rocking his hips and moaning. "Harder, Potter, faster… damn it! I don't… know… just MORE!" Harry obliged gladly burying himself as far as he could in that welcoming heat. Suddenly Draco cried out and he actually clawed Harry's shoulder before he reached with both hands to the edge of the bed and held on for dear life. Harry felt drops of blood and sweat dripping down his arms as he used them to maintain balance and leverage to pound into Draco mercilessly. All that existed in his world were Draco's loud screams, his body and the all-encompassing pleasure.

He took one of Draco's legs and used it to turn Draco on his side with that leg on Harry's shoulder. The new position allowed an even deeper penetration and Draco's cries became almost desperate as he clawed the sheets. His back was contorted with his hips perpendicular to the bed and his chest, head and shoulders buried into the mattress, his arms were reaching out in front of him as if he wanted to get away even if Harry knew that was probably the last thought in his mind. Harry loved that back, the muscles stood out in their weird position and he couldn't help himself caressing them. He knew he was repeating Draco's name and telling him how beautiful he was and how much he loved to be inside him but he couldn't manage to care.

He changed the position again because he wanted to know Draco in all his ways. He turned Draco completely so he was on all fours in front of him. He felt a sort of animalistic glee as they moved in this position; it was so primal, so needed, so violent, it was perfect. He bent down and kissed Draco's back and neck and shoulders, just enjoying the flavour and the simplicity his life had in that moment. He wanted to be there doing exactly what he was doing and nowhere else in the whole world. But he was now close, so close to end it. He reached to fist Draco's cock and squeezed. Draco, who had been moaning and cursing and begging and panting and trying to form coherent words finally gave it all up and cried out "POTTER" as he came explosively. The world went white as Harry's cock was squeezed with the strength of Draco's orgasm. He bit down on Draco's shoulder and came and came and came. It was pure, unadulterated nirvana.

He collapsed on top of Draco who was therefore pushed flat against the mattress with his arms wide as if crucified. He didn't complain however, so Harry didn't move. He released the flesh between his teeth and liked the blood away. He buried his nose in Draco's silky hair, inhaling the scent and inscribing it on his memory for future hours of pleasure.

He was dozing off when the heard Draco's muffled voice say:

"Hey, don't fall asleep up there."

He reluctantly rolled away, falling out of Draco with wet pop. Draco moaned a little.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked in concern, had he been too enthusiastic? Had he hurt Draco? He would never forgive himself if he had. Draco turned on his side so he was facing Harry and his eyes were wide in disbelief.

"All right?" he repeated as if the words were ludicrous. He started laughing a little maniacally and then it seemed he couldn't stop. He laughed and laughed and even if Harry was a little worried about his sanity he felt his lips twitch with amusement and soon he was chuckling himself.

After a long time Draco's laughter died away and he cupped Harry's jaw, locking their eyes in a meaningful stare.

"I am a lot more than all right, I'm great! That was… absolutely amazing." He was smiling and shaking his head in disbelief. That comment filled Harry with much more pride that it should have. "Who would have thought…" Draco continued but Harry had heard enough, his heart would burst if Draco continued. He kissed him softly and lazily. They kissed a long time, just enjoying the way their tongues mingled. When they broke apart Harry looked into the grey eyes and was once again surprised by the pure beauty of them.

"You're gorgeous… so gorgeous" he murmured and Draco hummed in what seemed agreement and contentment. Harry smiled, _gorgeous and vain it seems_ but it was more endearing than enraging. He pulled Draco into his arms, happy when he noticed the other man didn't protest and fell asleep as Harry kissed repeatedly the point he had marked so thoroughly before. Harry himself fell asleep not long after that.

* * *

When Harry woke up the next morning, Draco wasn't there. The bed was cold. He cast a_ Tempus_ charm and realised he only had fifteen minutes to get to breakfast or he would have to wait to get something to eat until lunch. Just as he thought about it a door appeared from nowhere leading to a big bathroom with a change of clothes. He washed and dressed quickly and went to the Great Hall. His eyes instantly fell on Draco who was talking to that Pansy bitch. As if drawn by Harry's stare Draco looked up into his eyes and smirked at Harry but it wasn't the usual smirk at all, his eyes were warm and with a hint of lust as he traced Harry's body from head to toes and back up. Harry flushed and he smiled weekly back. Draco went back to talking to Pansy and Harry went to sit with his friends with a silly grin from ear to ear.

He didn't talk to Draco the whole day but he was still happy when he went to bed. Hermione had been sending him suspicious looks but his happiness was contagious and she didn't press the matter. His happiness was drown only the morning after when he saw Draco with a Ravenclaw girl and clearly flirting. He was smiling to her and looking like he wanted nothing more than to take her to bed. Harry's blood was boiling but he didn't interrupt, he wanted to see where it would lead.

"What's wrong Harry?" asked Hermione softly from his side.

"Nothing."

Draco stood up with his usual dancer's swirl, saying a few last words to the stupid girl and she smiled happily and nodded excitedly. It looked like they had a date later. Harry couldn't take it anymore and he left his untouched breakfast to follow Draco. He found him standing against the door of the abandoned conference room with a satisfied grin in his face.

"What were you doing?" Asked Harry trying to calm his temper. Draco tilted his head in an imitation of the innocence he had shown two days before.

"I was setting up a date with that cute girl you snatched me away from yesterday." He answered conversationally. Harry's heart was aching and he took a step back.

"Why?" Draco's smile vanished and he walked to stand with his face a few inches from Harry's.

"Because I wanted to." He whispered. Harry closed his eyes. What was he expecting? That Draco stopped everything because of him? No, he was just another fuck, that was all. His heart broke and he could swear he heard it crack.

"Right, I'm sorry… I wont bother you again." He tried to turn but Draco caught his arm and pulled him to the conference room. Harry still had his eyes closed but he was sure that's where they were when he heard the heavy door close. His eyes snatched open when he felt soft fingers massaging his scalp and tugging his hair. Draco's face was kind and warm but Harry could now see it was generic.

"Your jealousy is immensely flattering and I would very much like to repeat what we did the other night because it was really amazing." He stated. His closeness was doing things to Harry's body that were impossible in normal conditions. Harry breathed his scent and loved it still. "But you don't own me, nobody does."

Harry wanted to cry and scream but he realized that the only way he could have access to this man was accepting that he had to be shared. Anyway, what had Harry ever done to deserve even a little piece of this wonderful, beautiful god? It was really too greedy to want it all for himself. He sighed, slipped his arms around Draco's waist and buried his face in the crook of his neck.

"All right" he whispered and signed his deal with the devil.


	5. Interlude: The Show Must Go On

The Show Must Go On is from **The Wall**

**Interlude: The Show Must Go On or Friends' Expectations**

"Where are you going?" That seemed to be the question everyone asked Harry at least three times a week. Hermione was the one who asked more often, closely followed by Ginny. He always answered he needed to walk, he needed to be alone for while and always came back several hours later or even the next day with a grin in his face. Ron insisted that Harry was probably just spending some time thinking or flying and it was good that he was finally smiling because it meant he was getting over all that had happened during the war.

The girls, of course, knew better. Ginny denied it all the time but everyone could see she was doubting Harry too. Parvati and Lavender after a long time of bitter remarks and shouting matches had finally forgiven each other and were now gossiping more than ever. Everyone was saying the same thing: Harry Potter was having a sordid affair behind Ginny's back and he was getting laid. Of course that rumour quickly extended to: Ginny wasn't giving Harry enough pleasure, Ginny was bad in bed, she was frigid... Ginny ignored them but renewed her efforts to make Harry have sex with her again. They had only done it three times, two in Harry's Sixth Year and one at the beginning of his Eighth Year. But Harry had refused to do it again, with silly excuses or simply pushing Ginny away when she tried to get a bit farther in their snogging.

In May Hermione finally had enough of seeing Harry hurting Ginny like that and decided to talk to him. She cornered him one night in the common room snatching his homework from him to show him how serious she was.

"Where have you been going at nights?" she asked bluntly.

"I already told you, I go for a walk and to think or just to get a break from everything. It's my 'alone time'." His voice was bored and Hermione was sure the lie was so perfect because he had practiced it a lot.

"I don't think you're 'alone time' is that alone at all." She stated searching his eyes in vain.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ah, the voice shook a little. Hermione closed her eyes in disappointment. Why would Harry do something like that? He had always been the one who insisted on doing the right thing, above rules or reason.

"Harry, please don't lie to me. You're seeing someone else aren't you?"

Harry sighed in defeat and the guilt rose in him like he had tried to avoid so many times. He was a bastard! He was hurting Ginny and disappointing his friends.

"Yes"

"Who?" there were tears in her eyes now.

"I can't tell you" he whispered and winced at his own cowardice.

"Why not?"

"I just can't." It was her turn to sigh.

"Oh Harry! It has to stop. You can't keep doing this to Ginny."

"I know."

"Are you in love with this woman?" Harry was startled. Yes, he was probably in love with Draco but he that would never work, he would never have a serious relationship with the man. Ginny on the other hand was perfect and if he wanted a family she would be a great mother to his children. And he loved her as well. Maybe he wasn't as crazily in love with her but he cared about her.

"No, I love Ginny." Hermione sighed in relief.

"Good. Good. She loves you too, I'm sure she will forgive you if you promise never to do it again. But you have to end this little thing you have now."

"I know."

"Right, then you have to talk to Ginny and beg for her forgiveness"

"I know."

The next day was the first of many times Harry tried to end things with Draco but he always failed. It only took a single meaningful look from the man and he was lost, coming back again and again. Hermione looked at him reproachfully every time he went out or when he came back but said nothing, obviously leaving to Harry to do the right thing. She only talked to him again saying basically the same thing in July. Then again when he forgot to go to a Weasley dinner the first week of August. Ginny was getting desperate and tried her best to seduce Harry but it was useless. For her birthday she bought all sorts of sex gels and sexy clothes and left the receipt lying around for Harry to find. Hermione took pity on her and made Harry swear he wouldn't miss her birthday.

Even Ron was getting nervous by now. He was sure Harry and Ginny were going to get married and that way Harry would be officially part of the family but he couldn't deny his friend was being cold towards his sister. He tried to talk with him several times but Harry always managed to change the topic.

The whole situation was at a breaking point on Ginny's birthday. All the Weasleys were restless and anxious and looking at Harry's every move.


	6. Chapter 5: When the Tigers Broke Free

Thanks for the reviews and to all the people that added this story to their favorites. I love you! really I do. So, here goes the last chapter of the first part of Mine.

The title is from **The Final Cut.**

**Chapter 5: When the Tigers Broke Free**

His mother had once told him that you couldn't give yourself utterly and completely to one single person. Each person was different and you must choose what part of yourself you show to each one. Even when you love someone you must keep certain things to yourself because the other is always doing the same. It's not only a way of self-preservation but also a kindness to the others, humans have all sorts of delusions about human nature and no one can bear to know another completely.

It made so much sense that Draco adopted this as a way of life. Each person deserved to be treated differently and of course he wouldn't show the same person to his father as he showed to Blaise. And everyone did the same; it was the only way to live in society without killing each other. At least he thought so until he knew Potter.

He had his suspicions at first after six months of having sex quite regularly with Potter. He wasn't his exclusive lover, of course, and he made that clear to Potter but Potter did seem to last longer than the others. Draco absolutely loved the way Potter would adore and worship him each time. He had been the one he could never ever surpass and it irked him but now Potter himself seemed to have admitted Draco's superiority. He was sure one day he would grow tired of the adulation but that day hadn't come yet and Potter was indeed one hell of a lover. So, Draco didn't feel too incline to give him up just yet.

But he did have his suspicions of Potter having given himself completely to Draco. It seemed crazy because he had always been sure that was not possible for anyone to do. But it was the way Potter would sometimes look into his eyes with such complete trust and openness he had the feeling he could see his soul if he wanted to. Still Draco didn't want to believe it, the whole thing made him feel unworthy somehow and made him remember things that he didn't want to remember or consider.

That was until that hot August afternoon when he had the absolute proof.

He knew it was the Weasley girl's birthday because Potter had been so troubled about it for a week. Apparently the insufferable bint had grown tired about Potter's unresponsive behaviour and had given all the clues to say that this was the day Potter and her were going to have sex. Potter could do whatever he wanted, he didn't care. But he was horny and he wanted Potter's adoration so he fire-called Potter in the morning and convinced him, a bit forcefully, to come to the Manor that day. Potter had accepted under the one condition that he would be able to leave before eight o'clock and Draco had pretended to accept this condition. He hated to have time boundaries. Or any boundaries.

Potter had come. They had had delicious sex and Draco was basking in the post-orgasmic bliss with Potter pecking his lips almost playfully as if he couldn't get enough of them. He felt really good, completely relaxed and safe and he just wanted to stay there for a long, long time. That was, of course, the moment Potter chose to get out of his bed and start dressing. Draco felt a surge of irritation as he saw the clock in his bedside table showing it was eight o'clock. Oh, how he hated clocks! I was his mother's doing he even had one in his room.

Potter was leaving _him_ to go to that stupid little whore. Suddenly it hit him how completely insulting that would be. She was a blood-traitor, she was poor, and she wasn't even _that_ good looking. No, he definitely couldn't accept such an insult.

He arranged himself in the bed so he would look casually sexy and waited a minute for Potter to look at him. Potter always tried to leave without looking at him but he always failed. As predicted Potter turned to look just before stepping out of the room. His eyes inspected Draco from the tip of his toes all over his body to finally get to his eyes. Draco shot him an intent and lustful look and almost grinned when Potter's breath hitched.

"Come back to bed, Potter. I am ready for another go." And he was, even with his irritation and anger no one could remain unresponsive under Potter's heated gaze.

"I– Draco– I can't– this is so wrong! I can't do this anymore, I have to go back to my life, I have to go back to my friends, to Ginny…" Draco wanted to snarl. So this was it, wasn't it? If Potter went out that door he would be choosing the bint instead of him for good. He was so angry he even considered telling Potter 'Fine! I don't care!' like a petulant child but the thought of her filthy hands on his toned body… An idea came to him then and it was so simple Draco felt stupid for not using it before. That first day in Potions Potter had been so jealous he had decided to just say 'fuck the world', pinned Draco to the wall and ravished him.

"Suit yourself, but I'm not wasting a hard-on so tell Pansy to come, she should be in the drawing room at this hour." It was a bluff, obviously. Pansy would be in the drawing room but that was because his mother had invited her for supper and the idea of Potter going there in front of his mother to tell Pansy he was waiting in his room was ludicrous. But Oh! There was that fire again in Potter's eyes and when his skin began to prickle with raw magic he knew he had won. Potter practically jumped on top of him and kissed him so passionately it took his breath away. He was so happy and proud he wanted to jump and dance. Potter had chosen him. He was going to stay here tonight and send everyone else to hell.

The kiss ended when they both desperately needed some air and Potter hovered just a few inches from his face. There was that look again, that look of complete trust but Draco was too happy to rationalise it so he said:

"Come, my eager one, take off your clothes" Potter did so quickly and came back to shower his face with feather light kisses whispering "Draco, Draco" in between. Suddenly he couldn't hold back his joy and it bubbled out of him in laughter of pure happiness. His laughter was cut off by a moan as Potter sucked at a _very_ sensitive spot on his neck. He plunged his hand in that wild, wild hair and revelled in the thought that he was the only one allowed to do it. Potter continued to repeat his mantra as he worshiped his body, kissing him all over, even in the most unusual places, but that was Potter so Draco enjoyed it. His erection was growing painful and he didn't think he could bear more teasing. Potter was nibbling his hipbone and Draco was sure that if left to his devices he would continue his way down, completely ignoring Draco's need.

"Potter…" _don't you dare._

"Draco." Replied Potter and Draco had a second to think that his tone indicated he knew exactly how much power he had over him before he was engulfed by a hot, hot mouth, down to the throat. Even in his pleasure he was surprised that Potter would take him so deep because he had never been able to do that before. Not that it wasn't pleasurable before. He had cursed many times Potter's apparently natural talent for this because it left him like a blubbering mass of glue. And now Potter was getting better at it!

"Fuck… you're actually getting better atthat." He panted out and he could almost feel Potter's smug grin around his cock.

He was moaning like a wanton whore and he knew it. But, fuck, Potter mouth was blissful. He was getting close at a rapid speed, _so close_. And, of course, Potter chose that exact moment to let go of his shaft with a pop and sit up. _Bastard._

"You're so fucking beautiful, you know that." _Yes well, praise may earn you forgiveness_. Draco gathered his breath while looking at Potter's face that was so full of adoration he decided that he could forgive him, just this once. He wriggled his hips playfully to urge Potter to continue. Potter smiled at him brightly, surely thankful that Draco was so merciful as to grant him forgiveness and then picked up his wand. Draco felt a flicker of distaste. He wasn't too keen on magical means of preparing for penetration, they always seemed impersonal and cold, like he just wanted to get it out of the way to get to the good part. And they were usually insufficient and a bit painful. He had never, not once used that on anyone. And it was the first time Potter was going to use it on him. That was when Potter pointed the wand to himself. _No,_ he thought in disbelief. Surely Potter wasn't going to…

"Potter…" he began. "Wha–?" he was cut off as he couldn't hold back a moan as Potter squeezed the life out of him. Damn, he was tight. He was very tight. Draco's eyes shot open as the realization hit him. This was Potter's first time. Said man was breathing heavily as he rode Draco and pain was evident in his face. Then Potter opened his eyes and locked them with his own. Potter's eyes were saying 'you're worth it' and were full of that all encompassing trust… that all encompassing love. In that second all of Draco's pretences vanished.

His mother had been wrong, it was possible to give oneself completely to another, Potter was the living proof of that. Potter loved him. Potter _loved_ him. Potter loved _him._ Why? Why would Potter love him? He was a selfish bastard, he didn't care for anyone but himself and maybe his mother, he had almost killed two innocent people and Dumbledore, he had been a death eater. And that day… _Don't think about it. _Would Potter expect the same kind of openness from him? That was something he couldn't give. There were parts of his soul he was going to die before he let anyone near them.

All his Pascal delusions were gone. Pascal had found the answer to the contradictions in human nature by giving himself completely to his god. Time and time again people had given themselves to causes they considered worthy and there was bravery in that act. His selfishness wasn't glorious, it was cowardly. It was just a way to cover the things he hated about himself. An excuse so he wouldn't have to look at himself. Harry was the hero, he cared for the entire world, and he had given up his life to save them all and never asked for anything in return. He was brave. And here was Potter offering himself in a silver platter and all he could feel was unworthiness and pain. Pain because in that same second he realized why he hadn't dumped Harry like all of his lovers, why he didn't want Harry to go back to Weasley. And he also knew he couldn't give in to that feeling or he would be destroyed.

But this was Harry's first time and he deserved to have one that was memorable. So, with his fingers only shaking slightly he reached to caress his toned and sexy chest, pinching the nipples lightly and trying all he could in this position to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for this wild-haired man he cared so much for. He didn't break eye contact and neither did Potter. He tried to convey only with his eyes how beautiful he thought the other was, how intense this moment was for him, how thankful he was for this and he kept away the despair and the fear. Harry set up an almost frantic rhythm and Draco obliged. Harry started to squeeze him repeatedly and he wanted to throw back his head and scream in pleasure but he didn't want to loose those dark green flames so he settled by crying out Harry's name, for the first time since they had started having sex, all those months ago.

But this was about Harry, not about him. So, he grabbed Harry's leaking cock in his fist and matched his strokes to the rapid rhythm. Harry threw his head back with abandon and cried out his name as he came. Draco let go and came too. He received Harry as he fell forward in his arms and hugged him, thanking him. He wanted to hold on forever but he knew he had to give up this happiness because he didn't deserve Harry at all, and Harry deserved so much better, he deserved someone who wouldn't… _don't think about it_. But just a little longer, just a little longer. He buried his hand again in Harry's hair, perhaps for the last time. He tugged at the hair, massaged the scalp and he loved the feeling so much his chest ached when he thought he couldn't do it again. He pulled Harry to a slow kiss, a tender kiss. When the kiss ended Harry started to get up and he didn't think he could bear the loss with his current state of mind. He stopped Harry with his hands and whispered:

"Stay." And he was ashamed. Ashamed because he was such a lovesick idiot, of course. But most of all ashamed because he couldn't give up on Harry just yet and each second he stayed there was going to hurt Harry afterwards and was going to hurt him too. He blinked back the tears staring out the sunlit window. He liked summer, he liked that it was so late and yet the sun stayed there, stubborn and reluctant to leave. He liked making love in sunlit rooms because then it didn't seem hidden, or shameful. He had never made love to anyone, but if he did he would like it to be under the sun, not at night. He looked at Harry… perhaps one last time wouldn't hurt too much. Perhaps he could make love to this man properly at least once before giving him up forever.

Carefully not let his cock leave Harry's silky insides he turned them both so he was on top, slipping a pillow under his beloved's hips. He wanted this to last as long as possible so he hugged Harry tightly and rested his head on his chest. He stayed there for a long time, just breathing in Harry's scent, enjoying the feeling of those slightly shaking hand petting his hair. But finally the room was filled with that fiery orange light, that last scream before the sun finally gives in to the night. He kissed Harry's neck, nibbling slightly for a moment before started to move his hips slowly and carefully. With his hands and lips he tried to memorize everything about Harry. His strong jaw, his thin lips, his straight nose, his dark eyebrows, the scar on his forehead, a little mole under his left cheekbone, the dark shade his eyes took when he was aroused, the moans he tried to tone down unsuccessfully, his tanned, soft skin, his muscled arms, another little mole in the back of his earlobe, the flat, toned abs, the strong thighs around his waist, the silky feeling around his cock.

They came simultaneously and he inscribed in his mind Harry's face when he came the first time they made love. He then buried his face on the crook of Harry's neck whispering and savouring the word as he said it: "Harry." He felt him melt and his deep breaths indicated he had fallen asleep. "I love you." He said and he drifted off to sleep himself.

* * *

There was a very nice smell surrounding him, it was deep and manly but also sweet and a bit floral. _Draco._ Soft fingers were massaging his scalp in the most delicious way. Hmmm…. _Draco…_ This was definitely a wonderful way to wake up. He nuzzled against the hard chest in front of him. _Draco. _This was heaven, his heaven.

"I'm a selfish bastard, did you know that?" _what?_ Draco's voice was distant, perhaps a little sad. Harry frowned, _what's this about?_

"I hated when the Dark Lord was at my house. I hated him in the most vicious way. It was like a poison in my body, I couldn't think, I couldn't talk, so much I hated him." Harry held a little tighter. Was Draco opening up for him? Was this finally the moment when he was allowed to see a little bit more of Draco?

"But I didn't hate him for the same reasons someone like you or Dumbledore hated him. I just hated to have someone telling me what to do. My father had always tried but I could always wriggle out of it and manipulate him, I knew the consequences couldn't be too bad. But the Dark Lord would kill my mother and me if I did anything he didn't like. I hated it. I felt like I was drowning. I didn't hate him for some ideological reason." Harry stayed quiet. He understood what Draco was saying, sometimes he felt like a selfish bastard himself because he only wanted to kill Voldemort because of his parents.

"That's not all. I hated when he made me witness torture not because of the people who were being tortured, but because I couldn't do something else instead. And I was scared, so fucking scared for my life and for my mother." Harry didn't know what to say. He could understand that someone was scarred, but if he saw someone get tortured his thoughts would always be for that person. He knew Draco wasn't like that but he couldn't really understand it. He understood that Draco was a very different person than him, he had already accepted that fact a long time ago.

"I'm so fucking selfish!" His voice cracked a little at the end and Harry almost shot up to look at his face but Draco held him more tightly and didn't allow it. He took several trembling breaths and seemed to gather courage before he said: "This is the last time we are going to be like this Harry. After today you will never call me again, you will not come looking for me. Is that clear?"

Harry wriggled out of Draco's embrace with effort and took his face with both hands to force him to look at Harry in the eye.

"What?!" he cried. "Why?" Draco pushed him off roughly and got out of bed putting on his clothes as he went. Then he turned to look at Harry and his face was stony and emotionless.

"Because you bore me, I can't stand you anymore. I don't want you anymore." Harry tried to understand what Draco was saying but it made no sense at all, why would Draco do what he did the day before if he was bored? Why would he open up his soul just to leave him?

"What is this about? Did I do something wrong?" Draco closed his eyes with a pained expression.

"Just go, please." He said with a small voice. Harry got out of bed and forgetting all kind of pride he went to hug Draco, to kiss his face. No, he couldn't go, he couldn't give up on this man.

"Please, please don't ask me to do that. I will do anything. Did it bother you that I bottomed last night? I won't do it again. Please, just tell me what to change and I'll do it." Draco took Harry's wrists and pushed him away. He then gathered Harry's clothes and gave them to him. Harry was desperate, he wanted Draco to look at him, to hold him. Draco put Harry's clothes in his arms.

"Draco, please look at me." Draco didn't, his eyes were fixed on the floor. Harry held his clothes with one arm and took Draco's chin in his hand, forcing him to look up. His heart stopped. Draco's eyes were full of unshed tears. Draco took a step back and the last thing Harry saw before the room dissolved was Draco crumbling to the floor.

* * *

Part 2 will be called **Two Suns in the Sunset. **I'll post the first chapter as soon as I can.


End file.
